


Serenade

by AstraKiseki



Category: Exalted
Genre: Demons, F/M, Hand Jobs, Lunars, Mending Relationships, Solars, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstraKiseki/pseuds/AstraKiseki





	Serenade

The idle plucking of a harp as Izo Light-on-Frost stepped across the threshold of his home sent angry heat across the Zenith's face. This small, distant place was his sole retreat from the Deliberative and Creation itself, a manse tucked away in the North, often buried in the snows. And there was someone in its, _his_ innermost sanctum. His fingers clenched about his namesake weapon's shaft, the sharp crackle of ice forming just loud enough to be heard over the harp's song as he strode to the archway to the very heart of his room, carefully peering into the room. To his shock, he could see a swirling nimbus of silvery hair, very much an unknown visitor, but more importantly, there was reddish-violet hair above the silver, a familiar shade framing a familiar face, the one other person Izo would tolerate here.  
  
"Aysel." The Solar was even more surprised he even remembered her name, so used he had been to his prior partner, Vibrant Heart of Azure Wings, who he had been the Mate of for centuries before the Waxing Moon's unfortunate demise. His Mate's head lifted up from the stranger's face, long strands the shade of silver shifting downward to show long, long fingers in the air, curling about invisible strings, and Aysel's steady dark-eyed gaze peeking over the silvery head, in something... surprisingly modest, a simple pink gown with golden knotwork. Izo knew of the Lunar's wild reputation, gossip claiming her a protege of Ma-Ha-Suchi, but had paid it little heed.  
  
As he watched the silver hair twist away and the head turning to look at him, Izo quietly decided that he may have neglected her, what with her apparently sitting in the embrace of one of the Harpists of Malfeas. He could hear the music far better now, a melody that was... well, not quite as wretched as he would have expected out of himself, a fact that stayed his hand and anger as he spoke as mildly as he felt. "How can you stand that thing and its song?"  
  
"Izo, my dear," Aysel smiled coolly as she slid away from the angyalaka, "Not only am I perfectly content with myself, but if you are truly bothered by her, I can have Claritas play you as just as easily as she does the air and make just as pleasing a sound." The Lunar pulled a pin from her hair, releasing a cascade of amaranthine curls down to her shoulders, gesturing to her recent seat with the golden pin. "She's bound and secure anyway."   
  
Izo gave his Mate a wary look as he politely acquiesced to her suggestion, approaching the two from the opposing side of the settle. There was a small tray on the edge of the cushion with different vials on it, an herbal perfume filling the room as he sat down on the demon's thighs and this close, he could tell that Aysel was somewhat the same height as him, and that there was suddenly a rather healthy breeze about his valor, and the electrifying warmth of skin on skin. A glance downward showed that an important article of clothing, the entire lower half of it, had made the likely best decision to retreat away from the demon's skin, to the hands of the faintly grinning Lunar still standing on the opposite side of him.   
  
"Is there a reason for this, Aysel?" The Zenith slowly swallowed while the Chosen of Luna brushed away a stray lock of hair before kneeling down beside him and her summoned musician, her liquid black eyes hard and focused on his face. Even as unblinking as her stare was, he felt somewhat less concerned for the situation, a silvery gleam reminding him that as his Mate, she wasn't going to allow harm to come to him.   
  
"I told you," She touched a small vial, dipping her fingers into it and reaching for one of the demon's hands as she spoke, "Claritas can play you like an instrument, and I intend to prove it. So relax, Izo. I've assisted in this sort of procedure before when I was a mortal, and I've only improved."   
  
"Helped with _what?_ " Izo let his lips curl into a frigid frown before his cheeks warmed at the delicate touch cupping him, angling his tip slightly upright. If he had been younger, if he had been a more self-conscious Chosen, he could have balked at the touch, well aware of his lack of... presence when he was disinterested, but after decades past a century of life, he was less concerned with such matters, and more involved with the immediate. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Aysel's fingers rubbing the salve across the crest of his glans and upon only one of the harpist's thin, thin fingers, the rest of them still playing out a gentle, not nearly bothersome melody.  
  
"You'll see. Just..." She gestured to the angyalaka to move her hand closer, a silver ring flickering to life on her brow, a No Moon to his surprise again, "Don't make any sudden movements." Distantly, Izo could hear the demon humming something, deep and sinusoidal like the guilt at not even remembering her Caste, a rumble against his shoulder and the softness of breasts against his back, and a sigh against his ear as he stared at Aysel more than the finger slowly nearing the small opening at the tip of his-  
  
"You used a Charm." The Zenith mildly spoke, the lack of terror more than enough of a clue to the influence on his mind. "Impressive, especially for your Caste..." The compliment made her smile as her eyes flicked down to the slender digit, his eyes following, just before he could panic, to fight against the Essence relaxing him as the thin, thin finger simply _slid_ in, and Aysel's smile turning warm and smug.  
  
"Just tell me when it gets too much, Izo." Slowly, he nodded as Aysel gently continued to apply lubricant to the finger as it maintained its slide inward, listening to the whisper of his breath under the the dulcet notes of music and forgetting that he should be utterly horrified, distrustful of the woman he hardly knew, Mate or not, using a demon to do **this** , but... As the finger moved, he couldn't help twitching ever so slowly, trying to encourage more of an advance as his breath grew into pants at just how absurdly erotic such minute movements could feel.  
  
Even so, it seemed nothing too extraordinary, nothing more than an interesting sort of foreplay with something that really shouldn't have been able to go that far in, until Claritas froze again, waiting until Aysel adjusted the angle of his cock before forging forward- And any sort of question to what the adjustment was intended to do was cut off by the almost immediate result, almost as if he was about to come then and there, even at the softened state he was in. Izo could hear Aysel's proof in his voice, a trembling groan out of his mouth harmonizing with the harp's music still playing around them as he felt the finger rock against something deep inside him.   
  
"I think it'd be wise-" The Zenith sucked in a sharp, dizzying breath as Aysel and Claritas responded, the finger smoothly dragging out in a jarring manner, almost as if he was coming himself and Aysel's fingers around him just as Claritas left. It only took a few sharp strokes from the Lunar for Izo to grunt softly, stark white come splattering across the No Moon's face. As she turned away, he felt an upwelling of guilt and shame, wondering how he could have just been this unkind to his old friend's successor.   
  
"I... am sorry," Aysel spared him a questioning glance while she wiped away the seed off of her face. "Not just for that, for neglecting you, Aysel." He ran his trembling fingers though his hair, keenly aware he was still sitting in a demon's lap, watching his Mate clean her face and not doing a single thing about either situation. "Perhaps we should start again with formal introductions, and get to know each other?"  
  
In the background, all around him, he could hear the song shift again, from stagnant despair and heated need to something lighter, hopeful, a coaxing serenade that somewhere deep down, Izo knew well was reflecting not just his own hopes there, but the ones of the woman now sitting down and starting to actually _talk_.


End file.
